


What Survives

by Pakeha



Category: Mononoke
Genre: Exorcism, M/M, Origin Story, Slash if you squint, implied rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pakeha/pseuds/Pakeha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an old house with a black secret and a past barely remembered.  The medicine seller breathes in and the stink is familiar.  He smiles.  All bad men will come to justice in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Survives

[Illustration by Groovy-tiger](http://groovy-tiger.tumblr.com)

 

*

“ _Inu._ ” He hissed, not even as loud as a whisper. He spat blood onto the wooden floor.

Wind shook the screens. Rain battered them. Cold crept around the the edges of the sliding door.

“ _Yaro._ ”

**

The weather bit like rat teeth and did not let go. Drops of ice hung from leaves, clinging, rain adding to their weight.

It needled down on his wagasa, pinging off the oiled paper and dripping from bamboo ribs. He stood motionless in front of the mansion, wooden geta keeping his feet above the puddles on the walk.

He smiled. Behind a hank of pale hair his eyes were narrowed.

A wind whipped wetly through the courtyard. A door slid open than snapped shut, small feet slapping against the ground. From the corner of his eye he followed the boy who ran from the store room to the house proper, dashing to make the shelter of the eaves. When his little hands reached up to take hold of the door however, he paused.

The man continued to smile.

“Hey mister!” Over his shoulder the boy had caught sight of him and called out. “It’s raining, mister!”

The man didn’t say anything. His only movement was the slow rotation of his wagasa in his hand, spinning slowly, slowly.

The boy hesitated for a moment, then glanced around the courtyard. With a sigh he stepped out from under the eaves and jogged over, water splashing up around his sandals and dampening his socks. He stopped just in front of the man in the colourful kimono with the strange pack and again he hesitated.

The man glanced down and met the boy’s eyes.

Strange eyes the man had. Blue and laughing.

“You can come in until it stops, if you want.” The boy offered.

Rain continued to pour. The man bowed.

“Thank you.”

**

The door shut with a wet clack just in time to stave off another wind.

“Eh, it’s been a nasty spring.” The boy muttered, shaking his head like a dog, stamping his feet after removing his sandals. “All it does is rain. Down down down, every day.”

The man collapsed his wagasa and set it against the wall, then removed his shoes and stepped up into the kitchen. With a roll of his shoulders he slipped his pack off and set it gently on the floor.

“It cannot rain all the time.”

“Eh? I suppose. It used to be sunny at least.” The boys eyes lingered on the man’s pack, fingers twitching a bit. “What’s in there?”

“Things I might need.”

“You need a lot of things, then.”

“Some things are for others.”

“You’re a merchant then?”

“I am a medicine seller.”

“Kusuriuri?” The boys eyes got big and he leaned close so he could whisper. “Eh, you best keep quiet then. My grandfather doesn’t like people like you, he’ll throw you right back out in the rain if he knows you’re here.”

The man leaned forward to listen, then nodded solemnly at the boys words. “Thank you for the warning.”

“You’re welcome.” For a moment the boy let his hand rest on the medicine seller’s pack. Then he yanked his fingers away and walked backwards towards the door to the rest of the house. “I’ll warn the servants that you’re here.” He promised, then turned and left the room.

The man did not move.

A moment later the boy’s head poked back around the door frame. “I’m Yuuto, by the way.”

The medicine seller nodded. After staring for a beat Yuuto dropped his gaze. “Eh, okay. Goodbye.” His face disappeared once again behind the wall and The Medicine Seller heard his feet beat against the floor, rushing away.

“Goodbye.”

**

There was something walking through the house. Something that would sneak and twist and bound and shuffle and _be silent you thing, be silent._

-Tell me your name. I think I knew it once, but I have forgotten.-

The Medicine Seller’s eyes narrowed.

_Hyouhakusha._

“Oh my.” He murmured, folding his hands in his lap.

Somewhere deep in the house came the wizened hack of an old man, and somewhere outside the courtyard walls a dog barked.

“Oh my.” He murmured again, slipping open a drawer in his pack and staring inside.

“So much to do.”

*

“ _Yaro._ ”

Another kick sinks in his gut and he rolls with it, landing on his back with his arms painfully twisted in their binds.

“Shut up. Leech! Disgusting creature!”

The man has a bad knee and has to fight to kneel down. Spittle flecks his lips and beard as he leans close, breath rank of alcohol and loathing.

The man on the ground is pale, body shaking, and still he glares beneath the mess of his hair. He fights to get up on his side and smirks, drawing bruised lips over bloody teeth.

“ _Inu._ ” A drop of blood and saliva drips from he corner of his mouth. His breath rattles.

“Ha!” The man hacks a laugh and stumbles upright, swaying. There are blood stains on his Nagajuban.

“Vagabond!”

**

The floorboards creaked as someone made their way down the hall towards the kitchen. The Medicine Seller did not look up from where he knelt, a steaming bowl in his hand, stirring counterclockwise.

“Hey! Hey, what do you think you’re doing in here?” The man who rounded the corner was tall, middle aged, and thinly bearded. A hand rested on the sword at his belt as he eyed the intruder suspiciously.

Kusuriuri smiled. “It’s raining.”

“Hai, but that doesn’t mean any house is a shelter. You’ve got some nerve-”

“The boy invited me in.” The stirring rod clinked merrily against the rim of the bowl as he tapped drops from the tip. Steam curled from the thin dark brew and he raised it to his nose and sniffed.

The man frowned, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking around the room. His frown deepened when he noticed the cupboards and cabinets which seemed to have been riffled through. He glanced at the intricately decorated porcelain the stranger was now sipping from with delicacy; it looked familiar.

“Stranger, you’re quite rude to be making use of our things! Give that to me now.”

For the first time The Medicine Seller met the man’s eyes. His expression was cool, his skin pale and unpleasant to look at. He lifted the bowl and held it out to the man.

“For your father. He sounds terrible.”

The man jerked back. “Eh?”

“A remedy.” The only movement the stranger made was an enigmatic twitch of his lips. “But do not tell him that. He does not like medicine.”

The man’s fingers twitched. “Eh, did Yuuto tell you that?” Still holding the bowl steady, The Medicine Seller said nothing.

The wind and rain surged, beating together at the roof and walls. Cold wet air snuck in the cracks and weakened the small fire in the hearth. A branch popped, and part of the fire crumbled, sending sparks into the air.

After a moment the man sighed. “ Hmph. The old man is pretty sick.” He snatched the bowl from The Medicine Seller’s hands. “Alright, stay here.”

The Medicine Seller bowed from the waist, watching as the man left. Listening as his footsteps sounded through the house.

After a moment he could hear them talking, distantly, through walls of wood and paper. ‘Tea’ the man called it. The old man hacked again, voice like screeching metal as he protested, then relented at his son’s insistence.

Behind him a Shadow surged and rushed over the wall, a sound like nails clicking against stone, the smell of water and a little bell chimed next to the door.

The fire went out like a rush of breath.

The Medicine Seller’s teeth were sharp when he smiled.

“Inu.”

**

The porcelain sounded cheerful as it shattered, medicine and pottery shards scattering over the floor, soaking the takami.

“Eh! Eh! What was that?” The old man hollered. “What was that Fumito? Was that you Yuuto? Eh? Answer me!”

“What? Oy, look at this mess! Someone get Jun, have her clean this up.”

Yuuto peered in from the hall. “What’s going on?”

“Was that you Yuuto?” The old man screeched again. His cloudy eyes were pulled wide as he turned his head in the direction of his grandson. “Was that you?” He didn’t seem to notice the broth seeping into the lap of his kimono. His weak lips were shaking.

“Was what me, grandfather?”

“That noise! That noise!”

“What-”

“It was just the rain, father.” Fumito grimaced and stood, moving to try and help the old man to his feet as well.

“It was not!”

Yuuto pressed himself flat to the wall as the servant girl rushed past, rags in hand. As the hem of her yellow kimono swished across the threshold the boy caught sight of something shining just to the right of the door. Something that sparkled. His eyes trailed away and he realized that there were in fact many, a long line of shining things walking back towards the kitchen.

“Huh?” He murmured to himself.

“It was not it was not it was not!” The old man refused to stand, crossing his noodle arms over his chest, jowls quivering with offense. “Do not patronize me boy!” The tea continued to soak through his kimono, pale blue silk turning brown.

Yuuto crouched down and inched closer to one of the objects in the hall. It seemed impossible that it should stand, balanced on a needle fine point, winged with two tiny plates on either tip, like a scale. Beneath each plate hung an equally minuscule bell, glinting in the light which bled from the hearth room.

“Oh.” His eyes were big as he reached out to touch.

“Forgive me father. Please, stand, it is too cold for you to sit in wet clothes.”

“Eh? Oh never mind, never mind.” the old man shoved his son’s hand off his arm. “Jun? Come here and clean this, Jun.” The maid bowed shallowly and knelt.

Yuuto’s fingers still lingered over the scale, not yet touching, when he heard a sound behind him, far off down the hall. He turned, expecting an empty corridor, and his nose brushed the hem of a blue kimono.

“Ah!” He yelped, almost jumping backwards, stopped only by the white hand on his shoulder.

“Careful.”

The Medicine Seller wasn’t looking at him, his eyes staring over his shoulder down the corridor, following another line of scales which Yuuto stared at in disbelief.

“What-”

Somewhere at the dark end of the hall the sound came again. The chime of a little bell. The hand on his shoulder tensed, tightening, strong nails digging through Yuuto’s clothes.

“Go to your grandfather.”

“Eh?”

“Now.”

Yuuto tried to stand but he was apparently not quick enough for The Medicine Seller and he took his upper arm in a hard grip, hauling him up and shoving him over the threshold into the room.

Fumito looked up startled, long face frowning. “What are you doing?”

The boy barely managed to avoid knocking over the row scales, rushed by the press of The Stranger at his back and Fumito’s frown became a scowl. “You! I thought I told you to stay-”

The Stranger took hold of the edge of the door, and threw the screen shut with a flick of his wrist. Another bell chimed, then another, closer together than before. Yuuto’s eyes got huge.

“Be silent, you thing.”

From the depths of his sleeve the Medicine Seller took out a sheaf of paper, each piece with the same printed pattern.

“Be silent.”

*

 _“Inu.”_ He tried to hiss it again but his lungs were a mess of blood and not good for anything but choking on wet and haggard breaths.

“Eh? Is that all you can muster?” The man was out of breath, standing over the boy on the floor again, straddling him, out of breath and re-tying his nagajuban about himself. His hairy legs shook a little, his whole body listing back and forth. “Cur. Your words mean nothing.”

He stomped on the man’s shoulder, popping the bone from its socket and laughing at the way the man’s eyes went wide and blank from the pain.

“Insolent.” He croaked, laughter shaking his belly. “Your kind never learn.”

Rain hit harder on the roof.

The boy coughed again, the effort near enough to kill him, blood spraying from his mouth to join the other smears on the floor. Red, drunk by dry wood, slipping from his raw wrists, over his lips, down his thighs. Inhalations whistled around a broken canine tooth and the man’s face turned ugly.

“Be Silent!”

**

Papers stuck to the wall, flying from his hands, going tense and flattening themselves around the perimeter of the room. For a moment none of them breathed, then, starting in one corner and running down the south wall like a wind, the prints shivered and black bled red. The line dug right across the middle of each slip split, widened like a wound, opened like an eye. They stared unblinking as a growl clambered its way over the outside of the wall, built to a howl, snarled as it nosed at the seams.

“What is that?” Jun cried, clutching a dirty rag to her chest, frozen on the floor in the middle of the room. “Is it a wolf?”

The Medicine seller’s voice was calm, but he had not yet lowered his hand. “Just a dog.”

Yuuto stepped forward until he was alongside The Medicine Seller, their sleeves almost touching. “Must be a big one.” The whole room shivered as something hurled itself at the wall.

The boy rolled his weight forward onto his toes, studying the papers as they faded, exhaling heavily as the gait of the creature outside died away along with the sound of snarls.

“No.” The Stranger murmured. Yuuto’s eyes darted to him, surprised. “It’s not very big at all.”

“A dog? A dog? I hate dogs!” The old man yowled from where he sat hunched up like a withered tree. “Get it out!”

“Of course its not a dog. How would a dog get in here?” Fumito stalked forward, hand on his sword. “Enough with you tricks, Medicine Seller! Out of here. Be gone, or you will regret it.”

“You would let me leave?” The Medicine Seller dropped his hand to his side and turned so his body was facing the son, but his eyes focused on the father.

“Yes, leave now and we will not pursue you.”

With a cock of his head The Stranger smiled. “Would he?”

Fumito grew shrill. “No riddles now! I’ll have you speak plainly, who is ‘he?’ You got an accomplice out there?”

The old man coughed. “Eh? Kusuriuri? Who let one of them in here?”

One of the drawers in The Medicine Seller’s pack jerked open, untouched. Jun gasped, Fumito inhaled sharply “Tricks!” He yelped.

Yuuto stood on his tip-toes to try and see inside.

“Inugami.”

Somewhere in the bottom of the drawer, something chinked.

**

Jun eyed the pack against the wall warily, as if expecting more weapons to appear.

Fumito was a moment from drawing his own blade, glaring at the little red sword in The Medicine Seller’s hand, imagining that the dragon carved into the hilt was laughing at him.

“You’re a criminal, aren’t you? Of course you are. You must be a murderer. A thief. I should strike you down where you stand!”

Jun closed her eyes.

The Medicine Seller simply tucked the blade into his obi, not even looking at Fumito. “I am a medicine seller.”

“Eh, what sort of medicine seller carries a sword? You’re a murderer you are. A killer.”

“Those are not the same.” He said sharply. “I am one but not the other.”

“Please, let us go!” Jun’s eyes had popped open her hands clasped in front of her breasts. “Please, I will tell no one!”

“I know.” He soothed. “But I am not the one who would kill you.”

“Who then, your accomplice out there who hits the walls and makes big sounds? The coward who won’t even show his face?” The last part was shouted to the ceiling. “Let me out you madman, let me out so I can kill him, let us see what sort of vagabond we are dealing with.”

He put a hand on The Stranger’s chest, shoving him out of the way and seizing the edge of the door, intent on throwing it open.

The Medicine Seller just took a step back, face emotionless as he watched the man try to pull, push, drag the screen open. The man’s eyes got big. The door would not move.

“What is this, what is this-” With a snarl he drew his weapon. The sword sang as he leveled the point to the screen.

“Son! What are you-”

One forward thrust and he sliced easily in, piercing the paper cleanly, but the moment Fumito tried to drag down the blade and open a portal for himself the weapon resisted. “What is this!” He yelled, hauling on the hilt, jumping, trying to use his weight to cut down. The sword would not budge.

“Stop, what are you doing? What are you doing!” The old man protested, leaning forward, one hand braced on the edge of his mat.

“How...” Yuuto began, but he trailed off, looking to the corner as he heard a bell chime again, tense as he waited for another which did not come.

The Medicine Seller raised a single eye brow and joined the boy in his gaze.

“Interesting.”

*

He ran a sword through him eventually. A tanto blade that dug through the side of his heart and his left lung. He didn’t last long after that, blue eyes wide and blank and dead.

“Furosha.” He muttered blackly. He wiped a hand over his lips, not noticing the blood he dragged behind. The floor was sticky in patches and he made an irritated noise as he stepped in one.

“Damn.” He jerked his foot up and stared at it idiotically, then glanced around the room. “Eh.” He grunted. He bent over and fisted what was left of the man’s kimono in one hand, unsteadily hauling the body up, and started dragging it through the room towards the door to the courtyard. He hacked wetly as he moved out into the rain.

“Always so messy.”

**

“What do you mean, inugami?” Yuuto lowered himself to kneel next to The Medicine Seller, the other members of the room arguing amongst themselves about what to do with The Stranger.

The Medicine Seller looked away from the bickering of the others and turned his eyes on Yuuto. For the first time the boy noticed the lines of red over his nose, around his eyes. The purple paint which touched his lips into a smile. Was it paint?

“Mononoke.”

“Wow.” The boy shivered. “Are you going to get rid of it?”

“I will try.”

“How will you do it?”

Yuuto did not notice but the rest of the room faded into silence, focusing on their conversation. The Medicine Seller smirked.

“I will need three things before I can exorcise it. Its form we have already found: Inugami. I need still its truth and its regret. All Mononoke posses these traits, and without understanding them one can not hope to defeat the demon.”

“Ridiculous!” Fumito snapped. “This is nonsense.”

“Nonsense? Do you hear that out there? Is that nonsense?” Jun’s voice grew harsher with each word, jabbing a finger at the wall which did nothing to dampen the sound of a growl.

“Be silent, woman!” Fumito’s hand went up as if to strike her, but a white hand seized his wrist and held him back. Jun did not cringe away, her eyes watering but her face determined.

“I will not. This is not nonsense, this is your fault!”

“You forget your place woman.” The old man spat and that time Jun did flinch, shuffling on her knees a few inches further away.

“This is your fault most of all.” She swallowed hard.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do!” Her voice raised an octave as she cried. “I do know what I’m talking about.”

“Shut up or you’ll regret it.” The old man raised a hand to cover his mouth as he began to cough again, body rocking with the force of it.

“I already regret it. All of it.”

*

“Keep quiet if you know what’s good for you.”

Little eyes turn away and little feet scamper back towards the store house, snapping the door shut with little hands and leaving the courtyard empty.

“What a bitch.” He started dragging the body again and stumbled as he remembered something. “Eh! Girl!” He hollered, knowing she was listening. “Clean up that kitchen! Little bitch.” He dissolved into muttering, dragging his corpse again.

“Just like her mother.”

**

“What does it want?”

Yuuto and The Medicine Seller knelt near the door, the room’s other residents still clustered at its center.

“Vengeance. Destruction. Death. Many things.”

“Why?”

“An excellent question, Yuuto.” He turned his head so he could look over his shoulder. “Why, Fumito?”

Fumito clenched his teeth and widened his eyes.

“Why, Jun?”

Jun covered her face with her yellow and green sleeves and quietly cried.

“Why, Takashi?”

The old man scowled. He sniffed sharply and coughed. “Impudent man, I think I know what you’re trying to imply and I do not like it! This is my home, I will not have you come in here making accusations-”

The floor began to undulate.

Jun screamed and shot up, Yuuto standing just as quickly and staring at the takami mats under his feet.

“What-”

The others rose too, the old man struggling and falling as all 9 mats began to wave and roil like snakes. They rippled over the floor, Jun once again shrieking as everyone who’d managed to make it to their feet danced around to avoid the waves. Fumito’s mouth hung open as he watched the mats move, so shocked he missed a hop and fell next to his father. Jun managed to run up to Yuuto and hung onto his shaking shoulder.

Only The Medicine Seller seemed calm, hands clasped behind his back as he stepped and hopped over each obstacle.

With a slick hiss the mats suddenly stilled, then with a howl they raced under foot to roll themselves up. Each mat sailed to the corner of the room, hit the wall with a thump and sent a sparkling red mist out on impact, speckling the walls, turning pale paper pink.

“Jun!” The old man cawed. All eyes turned from the mats to where he was lying on the floor trying to push himself up, but his palms were slipping in the tacky wet red smeared on the wood. Strings of it clung to his fingers momentarily as he pulled them away from the floorboards, before slapping his palms down and trying again. Fumito screamed, trying to scramble away from the growing puddle and struggle to his feet.

“Careful.” The Medicine Seller warned, touching the sword at his belt.

“That will stain.”

*

The leaves on the trees shushed as they blew together, sending fresh torrents of water down onto the man’s soaked head. He spat, and shook his head like a dog.

“All it ever does is rain.”

He let the body fall with a wet thud to the black ground, and for a moment stared out at the lake as it rippled and waved in the weather. He scratched his nose, and squatted unsteadily down.

With one quivering hand he reached out and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the tanto blade and jerked up once. Then he did it again, harder.

It didn’t come free. He scowled at the red handled weapon protruding from a chest stained but no longer bleeding and took it in both hands, pulling as hard as he could with a grunt and a red look on his face. The whole body yanked upward with the force, back arched lifelessly, head lolling back to stare blankly at the water.

The blade wouldn’t budge.

Tension broke in the man’s arms as he gave up and the body crumpled back to the ground, contorted. He was wheezing from the trial, scowling and ruddy and furious.

“Impossible.”

**

Yuuto gasped. “It’s-”

“No!” Jun shrieked. She fell on the stain with her rag in hand, eyes wide as she began to scrub at the oozing lines furiously. “I tried to get it out, I tried. I tried. I tried-”

Thick wet trails of it led away from where the old man struggled. They disappeared under the door to the hall where something whined and scratched at the screen, the paper shivering under the ministrations. Fumito’s sword wobbled slightly but remained stuck fast.

Takashi struggled to his knees, bringing his hands up to his face so he could sniff at them, unseeing of the bright red which covered him. “Eh, blood? Not possible, you cleaned it up girl, I told you to! Did you forget girl? Did you leave this mess behind?”

Jun cringed at the old man’s words and tried to scrub harder, her scarred knuckles rasping over the floor boards every few passes, the skin scraped off and her blood mixed with the blood she was trying so hard to clean. “I’m sorry sir, I’m trying! I didn’t forget, it won’t go away!”

She was inconsolable, weeping as she worked. Yuuto had pushed himself into the corner, farthest from the rolled Takami mats which looked as if they had been rubbed with a red stain. Fumito stood between his son and his father, his face pale.

“Get up girl, it’s not real.”

“It is real!” She shrieked. “It is real, I saw it! I saw it! I saw him drag them away, leaving all this mess behind for me to clean. And I did! I was good! I never said anything. I cleaned all day, there was just so much of it and it never went away.”

Her arms gave out and she fell forward as her forearms collapsed, her face pressed into the filthy rag as her tears tore through her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

The medicine seller crouched next to her and studied the blood impassively, tapping a finger at his own wrist as he watched the trails gather and flow like rivers, slipping towards the door.

“Just like your mother.”

*

The water was freezing as it swallowed the body tied with stones, drinking it down into its depths. Lake weeds coiled like tentacles to bring him down, gathered beneath him to soften the blow. A lonely carp swam past and lipped at his finger for a moment.

All the light stretched thin, shadows gathering.

“I don’t want the anger.” A dark skinned man who glittered with veins of gold whispered into the dead boy’s ear. “I don’t want your regret.”

“I don’t want it either.” the boy whispered back, blood billowing from his lips to cloud in the water, his eyes wide and unseeing.

The man smiled.

With a gentle hand he closes the boy’s eyes. With thin lips be presses a kiss to the boy’s mouth. With a firm grip he pulls the blade free from the boy’s side and presses it into the boy’s hand, curling his stiff fingers around the hilt.

“Then forget.”

**

“How curious.” The Medicine Seller murmured.

“What’s curious?” Yuuto asked, voice strained.

“Why do you not like Kusuriuri, Takashi?” His whisper was stained with his smile, a sharp and eager thing.

“Vagabonds!” The old man shouted. “A plague! Cast them out! I’d just as soon see their kind dead.” He looked ridiculous, shouting from his spot in a pool of blood, his body twitching like he could no longer control all its functions, his fine kimono covered in seeping stains.

With bang the whole room began to shake. Fumito’s blade was sucked through the cut he’d made and disappeared just before the screens began to shift, each panel of paper sliding along like a theater backdrop. The sound of lapping waves shivered over the room and cream paper slowly turned to blue and black. A school of carp, their bodies undulating, swam slowly by. Dark weeds grew up from the bottom of the wall, dancing in silence, fed by unfelt currents. The room grew dark.

Jun sat back on her heels and sniffled as she wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s so cold.”

A dog’s whine sounded nearby but not from the hall. It seemed as if it came instead from above them, a keening unhappy thing.  
_Be Silent._

The Medicine Seller sighed.

“I remember.”

At his waist the teeth of his sword snapped shut.

*

He dragged himself back to his house and shut the door tight, shuffling past the girl as she scrubbed furiously at the floor.

He moved to his room, kneeling to enter through the low entry, and creeping forward on bad knees. He shut that door tight behind him too and went to roll out his sleeping mat. It was early yet but the sun had never come out that day, the gloom of early evening wearing on him. He was tired. He had exerted himself too much that day.

Outside a teenager walked as silent as he could down the hall until he reached the red trail which slid along the corridor. He stilled, a thin fingered hand resting on the heel of his sword.

The wind chose that moment to shriek and the young man shivered. The stain was soaking in, drying, more brown than red, building up black on gray wood. He stared at it, just stared, for a long time.

Another gust of wind buffeted the house. Outside a branch broke with loud crack and fell into the courtyard. The teenager didn’t move.

“Careful.” A little voice whispered from inside the sitting room.

“That will stain.”

**

With an exhausted groan the floor of the room began to sink lower, water seeping in over the edges.

“Father!” Fumito cried, breaking himself out of the still sort of shock which had seized him. He paid no attention to the blood on his father’s hands and clothes, wrapping his arms around the old man’s chest as he tried to get him to his feet. “Yuuto, come here! Come to the middle of the room!”

With big eyes the boy did as he was bid running to his father and clinging to his leg as the water continued to rush in, soaking through their socks and creeping up their ankles.

“Will we drown?” Jun whispered.

“Where is the water coming from!” The old man shouted, trying to stand on one foot but his son’s grip was too tight to keep him from shifting his weight around.

“Be still father! You’ve done enough already!”

Another inch then another. The residents of the house stood together in the middle of the room, the Medicine Seller further apart, staring at the hem of his kimono as the water caught up to it, lifting it gently before it swallowed it up.

“Yuuto, get on my back” Jun said quietly, her face dry as she crouched down and motioned for the boy to clamber on.

“Can you save the boy? Can you get him out of here?” The young woman turned her question on the pale man staring so intently at the growing pool. “He is not a part of this.”

“You are all a part of this.” He murmured, not raising his eyes. “The mononoke will not pick and choose its victims.”

“Then do something!” Fumito shouted. “If you are a slayer of mononoke then slay this one! Don’t let it make corpses of us!”

‘ _This anger bests you._ ’ A voice rasped in his ear. The Medicine seller’s head shot up, his sharp teeth bared.

“It will not.”

Jun screamed. With a sickening lurch, the floor sank faster. She reached out to grab onto Fumito’s shoulder as the icy water reached the bottom of her rib cage, Yuuto squeezing her sides hard with his knees as he hid his face in her hair. The water seeped up towards their chests.

The Medicine Seller leaned forward.

Letting gravity over come him he went down with a splash, face first, into the churning depths.

“Don’t!” Yuuto cried, horrified. He held his breath, waited, but no one surfaced. No sign of a body remained.

“Kusuriuri-”

**

There is a body at the bottom of the lake. White skin, naked - what clothes he’d had having been torn away. Curling, feathery plants loop around his limbs, holding him there. They tangle up in his pale hair, stripe across his body in some semblance of modesty.

The Stranger falls closer, settling down through the water until his feet come to rest on either side of the body’s hips, sandals sinking into the spongey layer of roots and leaves and stalks which are built up around him. The water fills up his lungs, his eyes don’t blink down here.

“I told you to forget.” The voice rasped behind him and the Medicine Seller frowns.

“It doesn’t want to be forgotten.”

When the teeth chink together for the last time the sound is muted and hollow, but it carries through the water, ringing in the The Stranger’s ears. The Body smiles.

The clink vibrates off the surface of the water, the rolling waves go still and became glassy smooth in an instant, the room’s occupants hold their breath, even the old man listening closely. The shortest among them is up to his neck, Fumito’s arms straining to keep his father’s head above the water. The chill is settling in, making them numb. Yuuto shudders, eyes still trained on the spot where The Medicine Seller disappeared.

“What was that?” He whispers as the sound dies away, leaving silence in its wake. Jun grips the boy’s knees tighter.

“Regret.”

**  
Gold eyes, gold nails, gold lines that linger and pulse and glow and they’re warm where they burn through the dark man’s skin. They’re warm where they press heat up through the wet red stains on the medicine seller’s clothes and he smiles. They seep under his skin, spill inside.

“I remember.” He murmurs through bruised lips, dead eyes unblinking

“I told you to forget” He mutters back, the blackness around them the peace at the eye of a storm.

“It will not be forgotten.”

The silence unfurls between them. They rarely talk, and when they do it’s usually a one sided conversation. The Pale One’s finger’s twitch as The Dark One gently touches his hand.

“Then kill it.”

Those corpse eyes slowly close.

“Yes.”

The dark one nods.

_”Release.”_

The sword burns to life, a great column of golden fire shooting from the handle, sparking and pulsing. The raw fury of it ignites the water, vaporizes it. At the bottom of the lake the body struggles to move.

Steam fills the air, rising to the ceiling and clinging there until water drops gather and begin to pour down, raining inside the room as thunder sounds outside, the rafters shaking.

The old man cries out, eyes clear and staring at the dark skinned man robed in saffron in the center of the room.

“Go away!” He howls. “Leave me in peace!” He struggles in his son’s grip, but Fumito does not falter, arms remaining strong even with his attention likewise turned to the new Stranger.

‘ _It is more than they deserve._ ’ A voice whispers, full of bitterness. The new stranger doesn’t react.

The body lays on the floor on its back. The nail beds have shrunk down to elongate his fingers into talons, and he rakes at the floor as the weeds slide away, a glistening layer of water and decay covering him, his hair stuck over his face, his lips open and gasping. From the wound in his side, water pours.

Yuuto cannot rip his eyes away.

Outside something is clawing at the wall in earnest. The paper wards begin to shatter, burning as they are torn through, each eye punctured and ripped apart. Huge arms, wet furred and pale reach blindly through the wall. Jun screams and stumbles backwards into the wall, Yuuto still on her back. Fumito begins to fall back too, trying to drag his father but the old man’s legs are stiff, his bad knees refusing to work, and he is too slow. A huge claw, as big as a man’s forearm, catches on the old man’s lower abdomen and tears _down_ , blood quick to spurt from the wound.

Takashi screams.

The Dark Stranger stands between the two savage arms, facing the beam of wood which divides the two halves of the door. The sword in his hand flares.

Face impassive, he raises his black eyes to watch the the wood bend and begin to break under the assault.

When he raises his sword the beam bulges out and splinters. He points the tip of weapon to the middle of the beam.

The arms withdraw just before a deafening boom, then another, a crack appearing in the beam. It shatters on the third impact of the creature’s massive body. The door collapses, the beast roaring behind a veil of dust, preparing to lunge, but the Stranger beats him to it. The creature never makes it through the door

To the occupants of house there is only a blinding flash of light, a scream of great anguish, and a wet thud. The wind picks up, roaring through the house like a typhoon. The four cry out, but the sound is lost to the elements.

All light dies, and there is silence.

*

The teenage boy kneels next to the servant girl in the kitchen. Her little body is shaking like a leaf and she is refusing to look at him, arms wrapped around a doll like it is the only lifeline she has left.

“You must forget, Jun.” The young man murmurs, stroking her hair. “It is not worth remembering.”

“I can’t.” She sobbed. She pulls her knees up to her chest and puts her forehead down, wrapping her arms around her shins. “I can’t.”

“You must.” The young man insists. His hand comes to land on her shoulder and holds her steady. “It is not worth remembering.”

A flash lights up the kitchen before thunder sounds, rolling in through the walls.

“Forget Jun, or it will eat you alive.”

Jun sniffed and tried to halt her tears. She couldn’t help herself if she leaned slightly into the touch on her shoulder.

“It already is.”

**

“Grandfather will live.”

The sun is anemic as it peers through the clouds but still present. Puddles stand throughout the courtyard, the ground too saturated to take any more water. The Medicine Seller sat smoking on the steps to the kitchen, his pack on the ground next to him, his eyes turned towards the distant sound of the lake.

“He says he does not wish to anymore though, he says he might as well be dead.”

With a sigh Yuuto sank down onto the step next to the pale man, exhausted.

“What a pity.” The Medicine Seller murmurs, thin curls of smoke snaking from his lips. A pair of cranes soar overhead, making their way towards the water. Yuuto watches their flight.

“Father wants to know what your price is.”

“I don’t charge.” More smoke escapes as he smiles. “But I would like one of your tea bowls, from the set your grandfather damaged.”

Yuuto frowned, faintly recalling the broken sherds of porcelain that had been on the floor of the room. “Eh, alright,” He agreed after a moment. “Let me find them.”

“No need.” The Stranger smiles and pats the top of his pack. “I have helped myself.”

“That’s a bit cheeky.” The boy mutters and the stranger inhales another string of smoke.

“Hai.”

“Do you want your umbrella?”

The man raises his hand and holds it out to Yuuto. With a huff the boy leans back far enough to reach inside the kitchen and grab the wagasa before holding it out to The Stranger. Quicker than he can react the man is grabbing his wrist and pulling him close, umbrella and all. Yuuto bends over with a yelp until his ear is right next to the Medicine Seller’s mouth, those blue-purple lips drawing over sharp teeth to whisper “Do not forget today.”

The boy swallows and shakes his head, feeling the sharp bones pinching his wrist and the coldness of the man’s skin. A wave crashes onto the lake shore not so far away.

“I won’t.”

*

The angry man scowls as he stalks through his house. They buried the maid this morning and he is restless, ready to make war with anyone who crosses his path. The servants and the family are avoiding him.

He has been drinking all day, and is unsteady on his feet. As stumbles past the kitchen, there is a scratch at the door.

In a more sober state he would never have answered the door himself, but drunk he was just mean enough to make the trek across the kitchen and haul back the screen.

He hates vagabonds, maybe he’ll teach this one a lesson.

It’s raining outside. The man hadn’t noticed until the moment he opened the door. Under a colourful wagasa stood a pale boy with sharp teeth.

He smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> All of the japanese text was provided to me by a friend. I trust her translation skills, but if you have argument with something feel free to contact me about it.
> 
> Edit: Holy shit [Groovy-tiger](http://groovy-tiger.tumblr.com) made the amazing illustration at the top of the page. Go check them out immediately.


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